


All that I never said

by swallowthewhale



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5325014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowthewhale/pseuds/swallowthewhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane had never considered that she'd hurt Michael one too many times for him to forgive her. She needs a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

“You're really lucky, you know.”

When Petra had called, frantic and desperate, Jane hadn't expected to end up talking late into the night about pregnancy and babies and love over Ben and Jerry’s with the mother of her son’s father’s babies. Even though Jane and Petra had been on good terms lately, almost friends even, since Thanksgiving, they didn't hang out; or talk at all, really. But Jane had been there dropping Mateo off anyway, and Petra was crying on the phone, scared over what turned out to be Braxton-Hicks contractions and Jane ended up staying.

“What do you mean?”

Petra sighs and sticks the spoon back into the ice cream container. “No one has ever looked at me the way he looks at you.”

“Not even Milos?” Jane jokes, uncomfortable. Things had been less awkward between her and Rafael. Jane is pretty sure all her feelings for him are gone in the wake of her revelation about Michael, and although things didn't work out with Jill, Jane thinks Rafael might be on his way to getting over her too. She doesn't want Petra inadvertently uncovering buried emotions.

“Least of all Milos. Even Roman loved me more than Milos. I'm not sure Milos knows what love is.”

“And Rafael?”

Petra smiles a little. “He probably came the closest. We were happy, for a while. But that wasn't meant to be, I think.”

“Wow,” Jane laughs. “Look who's come a long way.”

Petra shrugs. “Rafael didn't even look at you that way, you know. Not even when you two were lovebirds with not a problem in sight.”

Jane freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth, heart in her stomach. “Wait,” she says slowly, lowering the spoon. “Who are we talking about here?”

Petra stares at her for a moment. “Michael, of course.” As if it's obvious. “You mean the world to him, anyone can tell that.”

Jane feels a little nauseous. Why had she thought Petra was talking about Rafael? Why did it hurt so much to hear her say, more or less, that Michael is the one? Sure, Michael and Rogelio and her mom and Lina had been saying it since it ended the first time. But somehow hearing Petra say it, Petra who hated Jane and was somewhat on the outside of it all, was different. And considering Petra had just admitted that she and Rafael were never meant to be, Jane was pretty sure this wasn't a play for Rafael. This was real.

“I know,” Jane says, surprising herself.

“So why aren't you with him?”

Jane tells her everything. The problems with Nadine, someone turning him in, the fight with Rafael, Michael apologizing, and Jane realizing she couldn't make it work when Michael and Rafael hated each other so much.

“I have to put Mateo first. And if Michael and Rafael get in the way of that, then there's not even a choice.”

“Michael loves Mateo. Almost as much as he loves you,” Petra points out. When did she get so insightful?

“It's not that. It's Rafael. He thinks Michael’s a dirty cop and out to get him. Michael knows Rafael hates him, so he's suspicious. And no matter how many times they get along or how much reconciling they do, I'm scared that putting them in the same room will get Mateo hurt again.”

“You don't trust Michael?”

Jane gapes at her. “Of course I do.”

“Then you don't trust Rafael.”

“I do, it's just. Michael lost his head and I know he'll try not to let it happen again, but can I count on try when it comes to my son? And what if Rafael never likes Michael? What if he's never even okay with him?”

Petra leans forward. “All Michael had left was his job, he'd already lost you. If he thought Rafael had turned him in and cost him both his life with you and his job… Can you really blame him?”

Jane groans and lets her head fall into her hands.

“Turning Michael in, that's something Rafael would do. If he thought it would be best for Mateo, you and him. For his family. He would definitely do it.” Petra lays a gentle hand on Jane’s. “You shouldn't let anyone get in the way of your happiness. Not even Mateo. Because when he grows up, you know all he’ll want is for you to be happy.”

~~~

Jane vows to at least talk to Rafael. But first she needs to talk to her mom. Because Petra’s idea is in direct contradiction to Abuela’s: What kind of monster doesn't put her child first?

“I hate to say it, but Petra makes sense,” Xo says.

Jane stares. “But mom, after everything you've done for me.”

Xo smiles sadly and pats her hand. “And didn't you tell me not to long ago that you just want me to be happy?”

Jane rubs her eyes. “What if they can't work things out?”

Xo takes Jane’s hand. “You can’t let Rafael dictate your life. I know he's Mateo’s dad and he has some say in your life, but you can't let him keep you from happiness. Michael makes you so happy. I've seen it. And if Michael puts in the effort, like he always does for you, and it still doesn't work. Well, then, maybe it's not Michael that's the problem.”

“You think I should put Mateo between them like that?”

“I think that you don't want to be alone and single forever.”

“I hadn't thought too much about forever.”

“If Michael makes you happy. If Michael’s the one who's going to keep you from becoming me,” Xo raises an eyebrow so Jane won't protest, “then I think Rafael needs to remove his head from his ass and stop letting his biases cloud his judgement.”

That sounds familiar.

“Were you listening to me and Michael?”

Xo hugs her shoulders. “It was hard not to. Just talk to Rafael okay? Be honest.”

~~~

It takes Jane a week to work up the courage, and to find the right time. In the end it's actually Rafael who brings it up.

“So I've been thinking.”

Jane raises her eyebrows, continuing to wrap Mateo in a new diaper.

“I was wrong. About Michael. I was just so pissed that he thought I was connected to Sin Rostro and that all came back when I knew you two were getting closer and I forgot that he's a good guy. That he's proved to me over and over that he's a good guy.”

“He was wrong, too. You didn't give him up to his captain.”

“I would have,” Rafael admits.

Jane looks up, shocked.

“If I thought he was a bad guy, which I did at the time, and I thought it would be best for Mateo. Even if I thought it would give me another shot with you, I would have done it.”

Jane steps back from him. “Oh my god.”

“I'm sorry, Jane. I let my feelings cloud my judgement and I forgot everything he's done for you and for us.”

Jane rubs her forehead. “I guess it doesn't make a difference now.”

Rafael frowns and sets Mateo onto his playmat. “What do you mean?”

“He obviously didn't want to talk to me when I saw him last week.”

“Do you want me to see if any of my contacts can find him?”

Rafael is quiet for a long time. Jane thinks their conversation is done when he says, “I’m willing to work things out with him, if that's what you want.”

“I want what's best for Mateo.” Jane half smiles. “But lately everyone's been telling me that what's best for Mateo is a happy mom.”

Rafael smiles. “I agree.”

~~~

What Jane wants to do is find Michael, show up on his doorstep and beg him to forgive her. Maybe it's pride that holds her back, maybe it was the cold dismissal at Target on Black Friday, maybe Jane’s just scared. Either way, she doesn't try to find him. Instead, she has lunch with Petra. And Petra breaks up with her. (Well, she had pretty much asked Jane out.) That hurts a little too much on top of the whole Michael situation. Jane puts it out of her mind. She does have school to focus on, and her novel. Ruined friendships do nothing to help her concentrate on either of those things.

So it's another surprise encounter that spurs Jane on. Be warned, it's painful, as you might expect. Put yourself in Michael’s shoes: after being pushed away so many times, how long would it take you to give up hope completely, to get hurt enough to not want to be around heartbreak any longer? Anyway, it happens on the beach. Jane had just dropped Mateo off with Rafael, and she has an hour before she has to leave for class. The beach is irresistible today, clear skies and white sand and just cool enough that it's comfortable to walk barefoot. Michael sees her before she sees him, and well, you know the look on his face. Just the way he always looks at Jane with the obvious urge to walk very quickly in the opposite direction. While he decides, he remains frozen in place and Jane sees him.

“Michael!” Jane hurries toward him.

Michael is about to repeat what he’d said at Target. He's not interested in catching up, it's too hard.

“It's you,” Jane says, breathless, before he can beg off. “It's always been you.”

“I can't do this, Jane,” and Jane’s smile disappears. “I can't do this if you're just going to change your mind again. I need you to be sure, because it's too hard to keep losing you over and over.”

Jane grabs his hand before he can walk away. “But, Michael…”

He gently removes himself from her hold. “I love you, Jane,” he says, a frown in the crease of his brow and heartbreak in the press of his lips. “But I can't do this.”

She watches him walk away with her heart and she doesn't realize she's been standing there, crying, well after he disappears into the distance until her phone rings.

She sends it to voicemail.

 

_He bends his breath around my name_  
_And I am humbled_  
_I feel small and plain_  
_But his arms are angels by his side_  
_You need not ask if they’re open_  
_Just how wide_


	2. two

The easy thing to do would be for Jane to stay away from Michael, to give him his space and at least make sure that Jane is ready to commit this time. Lina smacks her arm for that.

“What have you done with my best friend?” Lina demands. “Because she would be planning a way to prove to Michael that she's sure. You knew you wanted to marry him and you went and proposed to him in front of a bunch of cops.”

Jane fidgets. “What if he's right? I have been changing my mind a lot. What if something happens again? What if he lies, or what if Mateo gets hurt again?”

Lina rolls her eyes. “You've been sure about Michael twice now. I've never seen you so sure about anything else.”

Jane sighs. “You're right. I am sure. And it's not like I want to rush into marriage right after we get back together, I just want to be with him. I want to never be without him.”

“I think you should be saying that to Michael, not me,” Lina says quietly.

“He didn't exactly give me a chance.”

“So make him.”

Jane makes a plan, because she’s good at that.

Jane’s plan includes:

1\. The beach

2\. A speech

3\. Dinner (hopefully)

Jane’s plan doesn't work. She asks Rogelio to get Michael to the beach, but Michael won't answer his phone and then Mateo gets sick. And then Jane gets sick. Really sick. Hospital sick. And Jane sick at home is bad, but Jane sick in the hospital is way worse. Jane has been in the hospital exactly once before now, with the flu. She had been burrowed in bed, surrounded by tissues and empty bowls of soup. Michael had come in, taken one look and brought her to the hospital. She'd had a 105 degree fever. Michael had been endlessly patient, making sure no one bothered her too much, bringing her Abuela’s homemade soup, holding her hand and reading to her until she fell asleep. She'd yelled at him once and he'd just kissed her forehead and settled back into the chair next to her bed.

Now, Jane can't help but wish for Michael to be there. She knows he's still mad at her, and probably doesn't even know she's in the hospital. So she knows she's dreaming when she wakes up, still feverish and hazy, and Michael is sitting next to the bed, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Jane’s mouth is too dry to speak and she knows he’s not real, so she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.

The next time she wakes up, her head is much clearer and the voices from the hallway sound much more real than the Michael in her dream.

“Don't tell Jane I was here.” Jane feels a chill creep through her bones. Michael.

“She was asking for you,” Xo says.

“She was just dreaming. I just came to make sure she's okay, and I should go before she wakes up.”

“She would want to see you,” Xo insists.

“She made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me around her anymore.”

Jane can't hear her mom’s reply but she knows what she wants to say: “Don't go. I was wrong. It’s you.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Michael says and as Jane listen to those very familiar footsteps recede down the hall, she wonders how often her family talks to Michael without her knowing.

By the time her Abuela comes in, Jane is on her phone, answering texts from Lina and Rafael. She pretends that Michael was never there, that she hadn't overheard anything she wasn't supposed to, and that she's feeling much better despite the knot sinking from her chest into her stomach, making her feel nauseous. The doctor tells her now that the fever’s broken, she should be able to leave by the next day. They want to keep her a little longer because of Mateo.

Jane goes home the next day and buries herself in her bed and lets herself cry. When she feels dried out, she showers and faces the world as Villanueva women do, with a brave face on despite the struggles in her heart.

~~~

If Jane wasn’t conflicted before, she is now. Half of her wants to find Michael and convince him that she knows now, that she’s sure. The other half wants to give him space (give up, says the voice in her head, distinctly in Lina’s voice) and let things settle before doing anything. Christmas is coming quickly (#oneweekleft!), and she still has gifts to buy and assignments for school to finish.

It arrives in the mail on a Tuesday. Jane had forgotten all about it, doesn’t even realize what it is until she settles down on her bed to open it and cries despite herself. She’d pre-ordered it nearly a year earlier, the new science fiction novel by Michael’s favorite author. Overwhelmed, she throws it back into the packaging and tosses it into the Michael box in the top, back corner of her closet. In that box, Jane has hidden away everything that hurts too much to look at. The number of things in the box is at an all time high, and while most days Jane doesn’t think about it, sometimes at night when she can’t sleep, she stares at the hiding spot and lets her heart fall to shreds.

It’s not even a full hour later when Jane has the idea. She wastes no time, finding the picture she wants first, then sitting down at her computer to write a letter. Michael can’t interrupt a letter, and Jane can make sure everything she needs to say is set down without leaving out that key part (it’s you). She folds the photo into the letter, and tucks both into the book. And the next day at Target, she finds the perfect addition: a small plush giraffe the size of her palm that she lays on top of the book in the box. She wraps the bundle in plain silver paper and only puts Michael’s name on the tag. He’ll know who it’s from.

 

_He loves with rhythm_   
_And paints with flame_   
_He comes in pieces with no name_   
_I won’t need answers, I’ll just know_   
_Cause I’ve read sonnets about his soul_


	3. three

On Christmas morning, Jane rises before the sun is even up, jittery and nervous. She sets out her presents for her mom, Abuela, and Mateo under the tree in the living room, drinks three cups of coffee, and finally, at 7:30, drives to Michael’s. She’s thought carefully about how to leave the gift. She can just leave it for Michael to eventually find, but she worries that it’ll sit there for days. She carefully places the gift on the stoop, rings the doorbell, and runs.

Jane is gone before Michael makes it to the door, so she doesn’t see him open the door, half asleep and confused, rumpled and shirtless (yeah, she missed out). He looks around confused, before noticing the gift. He picks it up slowly, looks down the street again, before closing the door.

Jane’s letter:

“Dear Michael,

It started with the nanny-cam. (I know, overkill.) We got one, because I’ve been so worried that Rose is going to try to take Mateo again. And I saw Rafael talking to the guy who turned you in. Rafael paid him off to tell your captain that you’d let Nadine go. You were right, and I’m so sorry. I knew that was something Rafael would do, and I guess now I don’t think I can trust my judgement very much.

Then I had a plan. I was trying to get Rogelio to bring you to the beach. There was going to be a speech, and in my head it played out just like a romance novel. You would forgive me immediately and we would kiss and there would be snow. Life has a way of getting in the way, though, and it’s probably for the best, because expecting you to forgive me every time no matter how terrible I’ve been is pretty crappy of me.

Then I saw you at the hospital. I thought I was dreaming or that the fever was giving me hallucinations. All I wanted was for you to be there, it seemed too good for that to be true. I thought it was definitely not real. But later I heard you talking to my mom in the hallway, and if I hadn’t known before, I knew then. I’ve been a really shitty friend, even if friends were all we were. You’ve been there for me whenever I need you, regardless of what’s going on between us or with you, and I’m never there for you. I should have know there was something wrong, and I should have asked about it.

I know you think I’m going to change my mind again, and I can’t blame you. I don’t have any excuses for the way I’ve treated you. I can only say that I’m so sorry for hurting you so many times. If you can believe it, I really tried to spare your feelings whenever I could. And I feel like I owe you a lot of explanations. My feelings for Rafael are gone. That probably makes me seem more indecisive than ever, but I can only say that hindsight has made me realize my mistakes. There was never anyone for me but you. There never will be anyone else, because we’re meant to be.

And I should have said, a long time ago, it’s you. It’s always been you.

Love,

Jane”

The photo:

Mateo, in his baptismal gown, cradled in Jane’s arms as she gazes down at him. Opposite to Jane is Michael, one hand behind Mateo’s head and the other on Jane’s wrist, looking at Jane much in the way Jane is looking at Mateo.

~~~

Mateo has fun playing with the wrapping paper and Jane fills up her camera’s memory before they make it to the last two gifts under the tree. She recognizes the handwriting on both packages, and her hands are shaking while she carefully unwraps the one addressed to Mateo. Inside the box is a onesie that says “Sometimes I pretend I’m a police car and I scream.” Jane manages a smile and sets it aside to reveal a set of rubber teething rings and a brown-spotted giraffe lovey. Jane tries to stop her hands from shaking as she reads the note aloud.

“Merry Christmas, Mateo! Love from your favorite uncle, Michael.”

Jane cries when she opens the second gift. A glossy, leather-bound journal rests on top of a heavy book of writing advice called “How to Write Your Novel Five Times Without Getting Bored.” Next to the books is the exact same giraffe plush Jane had put in Michael’s gift. Jane clutches it to her chest while she reads the note.

“Jane,

I got the books for you a while ago, and I wasn’t even going to give them to you but then I saw the giraffe and figured it was a sign or something. I hope you’re feeling better. Merry Christmas.

Love,

Michael”

Later, after church and lunch with her family, after cleaning up gifts and wrapping paper and settling Mateo for a nap, Jane locks herself in her room and traces the word “love” on the note. She can’t help the hope that wells up at the small gesture from Michael. She can’t help but believe that there’s still a chance. She reaches slowly for her phone, refusing to take her eyes off the note, in case the words disappear. She carefully types out a text, stares at it for a long time, deletes it all, and instead simply sends “thank you.”

It’s disappointing when it’s nearly eleven and Jane still hasn’t heard back from him. She’d stayed up later than usual, watching Passions of Santos reruns with her phone clearly visible on the coffee table. Everyone else is asleep, and Jane is nodding off on the couch when she’s startled awake by a soft knock on the door. She checks her phone first, but she doesn’t have any messages or missed calls. She opens the door slowly on Michael, hands in his pockets and head down.

“Michael?” Jane’s hands are shaking again. She steps out onto the porch and closes the door behind herself.

“I know it’s late,” he says, looking at her now, the emotions clear on his face for the first time since that night when Jane broke it off.

“It’s fine, I was still up,” Jane says gently, as if he were a skittish puppy. “Are you okay?”

He rubs his eyes, fighting the urge to touch her (to push her against the door and kiss her, to hold her and never let her go, to remind himself of the feel of her skin and reacquaint himself with the curves of her waist). “I read your letter.”

Jane had figured that one out on her own.

She stays silent long enough for him to take it as an invitation to continue. “I believe you,” he says quietly. “I know you’re sure. I think - I don’t think that’s what I’m worried about.”

“What are you worried about?” Jane asks, uneasy.

Michael sighs. “Because you were right, too. I couldn’t control myself, and Mateo’s not safe around me. I couldn’t bear hurting him, Jane.”

“I know,” Jane whispers, leaning against the door and wrapping her arms around herself.

“But,” Michael starts and Jane feels the beginnings of determined hope creeping back. “I don’t think I can do it, stay away. Life is too empty without you. I want you in my life, and if that means Rafael and anger management, then it’s all worth it.”

He takes a step closer and Jane blurts out, “When we first met, I knew it was you.”

Michael braces his arm against the doorframe. They’re close enough now that Jane can see the bags under his eyes and the lines around his mouth, even in the dark. His fingers slide along her hip around to her back.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to remember.”

The moment moves in slow motion, the fluttering of Jane’s heart building into a crescendo. Michael presses their bodies together, his nose brushing hers, before he kisses her. She traces her hands along his back up to his shoulders, following as he deepens the kiss. As the orchestration fades, he pulls away slowly, letting the moment catch back up to speed.

“Woah.”

 

 _He makes me crazy_  
_He makes me cruel_  
_But I pray he makes me anything_  
_But a fool_


End file.
